Roads
by ksx244
Summary: From the tumblr prompt: 'I'm a hitchhiker and you just pulled up in a wedding dress AU'. One-shot.


"Hey buddy can I just-" Yet another car sped past an otherwise empty road, leaving Richard Castle covered in a fine sheet of sweat of dust, not to mention frustration. The midday sun was harsh, and his cap was of little protection sitting atop his head of messy, sandy hair. Sighing at the fact he had just counted the tenth car to pass him by, he carried on, the large camping bag on his back swaying in time with his steps. Perhaps a camping trip wasn't the best way for inspiration for a new book to strike after all.

After another hour of walking, Castle was almost ready to give up. He needed to get out of the sun, and setting up camp on the side of the road for a couple of hours wasn't illegal, right? That was, until, a blue Taurus pulled up. The window rolled down, and a female voice emanated from inside. "Where are you headed?"

With a grateful sigh, Castle opened the door and squeezed his broad frame inside. "Just into the ci-" He cut his reply short once he turned to look at the driver. Her golden brown hair settled on her shoulders as she turned to face him, her eyes as sharp as her cheekbones. She was also in a wedding dress.

"You ok with being dropped off once I get to Manhattan?"

"Uh... yeah that's great, thanks." He had a feeling he shouldn't enquire about the dress. Not to mention the fact that she looked like she would kick him under the next vehicle if he asked (which could have been a while, considering there were no signs of life on the horizon no matter which way he looked).

"You're that writer aren't you?" She turned back to the open road, easing her foot down on the pedal.

"Richard Castle. You've read my books?" She didn't seem like a crazy fan. Many theories came to mind when he contemplated the silk and lace that adorned her body, but crazy stalker fan didn't spring to mind.

"No, there's a cardboard cut-out of you in Barnes and Noble."

"Shame. Who should I have made it out to?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Beckett."

"Well then Miss Beckett, I recommend you pick up Storm Fall at that Barnes and Noble and let me know when you want it signed."

"I'm fine without your phone number thanks."

"I wasn't offering it."

"Right." Another eye roll. _Careful Rick, she's your ride home. Don't pester her too much._ An awkward silence settled in the car. Castle fiddled with the radio, tuning out of an unknown talk show neither of them were listening to to a god-awful country tune. At least it was better than a monotonous drone, Castle figured as he stole a glance at Beckett.

"He was an FBI agent. I knew he'd prefer to be married to his work than to me, so I left."

"I didn't ask."

"You were not asking very loudly."

Another awkward silence followed, prompting Castle to start playing with the radio again.

"Castle!" Beckett hissed.

"What?"

"Just leave it." She nodded at the offending object.

"Sorry. And you can call me Rick."

"I prefer Castle."

"Why? Oooh, wait no, let me guess. CIA agent? Bodyguard of the president? Russian spy?"

A glare cut off his excited tirade. "No I'm a cop. Just your average, run of the mill, detective."

"Oh I highly doubt you are average, Detective."

"Ну, я говорю по-русски."

Castle's jaw dropped, but only to receive a smirk in return.

* * *

The sun was setting by time the pair got back to New York. Beckett pulled over next to the first subway entrance they came across, motioning for Castle to get out of the car. He did, however, before he shut the door, turn to thank Beckett. "Thank you for the ride Detective. It was... intriguing. However, before I go, really, what is your name. Your first one that is."

She regarded him for a moment before answering. "Kate. My name is Kate." Something flashed in her eyes when she said her name, but Castle could not place it. It almost looked like sadness. Almost.

"Goodbye Kate Beckett. I hope I see you again." She smiled at that, a proper smile he had been waiting for. With that, Detective Kate Beckett drove off into the city, becoming nothing more than a car in a sea of traffic. She did not realise that the writer she left behind truly meant his words; that he could see she had a story bigger than an unhappy relationship to tell, and he wanted to break down her walls and prise it out of her, just as he had with her name. That he wanted to see _her_ again.

* * *

Several months later, Kate Beckett curled up on her sofa, ready to delve into the world of Nikki Heart, courtesy of Richard Castle's latest book series Heat Wave. Taking her time as she always did with new books, the pages were carefully turned until she got to the dedication. She almost dropped the book in surprise.

 _To the intriguing KB, the girl in the wedding dress with a story to tell._

Ну, я говорю по-русски - Well, I do speak Russian (thank you to the guest who corrected this for me!:] )


End file.
